Z is not good, but 'good enough'

I've been practising the organ this afternoon.  I think it'll be all right.  It's a funny thing, but once one learns a piece, it comes back quite easily, even if you don't play it for ages.  It won't be perfect of course, I can be an adequate player but will never be a good one.  Trouble is with accepting one's limitations is that one plays down to them.  I won't bother to practise more than I need to get by, because I know how little point there is.  Not something to recommend to the young and impressionable, but I'm neither.

Before that, Eddie 2-Sox joined us for lunch.  I'm not sure if it counts as a blog-meet after the first time, I think it's simply meeting a friend.  An old friend, of course, because bloggers usually know each other pretty well before they actually meet in person.  I sent detailed instructions to reach our house, which meant he ended up down a narrow track the other side of the field from the house.  He eventually arrived, having trudged across the fields and through the stream, covered with mud and bedraggled through brambles.*

Tomorrow, the Sage and I have found ourselves double-booked. I accepted an appointment to have the dishwasher mended in the morning, asking him to stay in as I would be minding the shop for some of the morning at least, but now we realise that he'll have to go to the mushroom farm.  He'd been planning to leave at 8 o'clock, helping me with the heavy outdoor shelf first, but he'll have to leave earlier, hoping they will be open, and I'll manage the shelf myself.  I can, I'm just being a girlie.

*Alternatively, he turned the car round and drove down the drive like a sensible man.